


rotten work

by glazers



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Violence, boxer kim jongin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21669715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glazers/pseuds/glazers
Summary: the events after one of kim jongin’s bloodiest pro boxing matches.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	rotten work

**Author's Note:**

> i’m back bitches

jongin’s sure he loses a pint of blood that night. 

it leaks from his lips and somewhere above his brow, but it had been two hours since then. the blood has crusted over and flakes off when he moves his lips to talk. minseok is running a shower for him first and then a bath to get the blood off. jongin’s lost count of the times he’s had to do this, the times minseok has helped him get out of their car and into their house. the fight tonight was extra brutal— jongin doesn’t know when to quit. he always said leaving a boxing match with a few bumps and scratches only to lose wasn’t good enough. he needed some evidence that he put up some sort of fight. 

minseok hated that about him, but it was an itch he needed to scratch. 

the fight had been a pay per view fight. the main event with a capital m and e. minseok had sat ringside with junmyeon, jongin’s longtime friend and manager. minseok had sat ringside as jongin taunted his opponent with his eyes, had even laughed a few times when he hit him. it was weird— the way jongin got when a fight started. sometimes minseok thinks he enjoys it too much, the game of it, how jongin can go rounds and rounds dodging hits only to lay his opponent out. jongin didn’t dodge hits this time, in fact the statistics were that his opponent landed about seventy percent of his punches. 

but jongin still won, so he couldn’t give a shit. 

“you really should let the doctor check you out next time.” minseok says, walking over to where he’s resting in a chair to help him up and into their bathroom. jongin hums, tries to walk on his own but his sides hurt when he puts pressure on his feet. 

“my name is gonna be in everyone’s mouth tomorrow.” jongin grumbles, lifts his arms as minseok undressed him. “they’re gonna call me a psycho again. the blood was practically running out of me.” 

“i don’t know why you do that.” minseok whispers. “just… you could have laid his ass out during the fourth round. but you always have to get hurt somehow. not surprised they call you crazy.” 

jongin frowns, “i’ve always fought like that. even before all this shit, minseok.” minseok flicks his eyes up at him, knowing he’s referring to their lives now. how he and jongin went from living in a rented bedroom with a random family of six to living in a home with more zeros than they can both remember. before jongin was taken seriously by any of his opponents. before he had more titles than a veteran boxer in the game. before all this shit. 

“brain hemorrhages exist, you know.” minseok breathes out. “i don’t want you hurt. don’t fucking scold me for being worried.”

“hey, i’m not.” jongin tries to move, tries to grab minseok by the arm, but his whole body aches and pushes against it. “i’m not, really.” 

minseok remains silent as he helps jongin up and into the shower. the water runs pink down the drain as minseok scrubs at his chest and neck with a sponge. “don’t be angry with me.” jongin says, gripping minseok’s wrist as it inches up towards his face. 

“i’m not.” minseok responds, being gentle with getting blood from jongin’s face. he looks odd without it, almost barren. they don’t speak for the remainder of the time that minseok gets the blood off his skin. the bruises remain— covering most of his ribs and back, some on his face. no black eyes this time, thankfully. minseok runs a bath after jongin’s cleaned himself up well enough. they sit in silence, jongin in the bathtub with bubbles and minseok on the sink. it’s normally not like this after a fight, but jongin had danced on the line tonight, scaring minseok half to death with how much blood was coming out of him. 

there’s been instances where jongin can’t speak from the pain in his mouth, from having his lips and cheeks split open more times than minseok can remember. years and years of the same thing. 

“i wanna get married.” jongin blurts out, almost makes minseok jump. “before the year ends. a winter wedding.” 

“winter wedding.” minseok repeats, mouth dry, stomach churning uncomfortably. 

“yeah.” jongin says, looking down at his bruised hands. “i was thinking korea. we could see our parents, our old friends.”

minseok nods. 

“you don’t want to?”

“i don’t know.” minseok swallows. “do you?”

“i’m saying it, aren’t i?” jongin’s eyebrows pinch in, his mouth twisting it what could be read as anger or hurt. “you’re that angry with me about tonight? you don’t even wanna think about marrying me?”

“you’re getting upset because i’m not agreeing to marry you after you just spent an hour beating and getting your ass beat in a ring? your  _ adrenaline _ is still running high. god, you’ve asked me to marry you every time after a fight and only then.” 

“fine.” jongin makes way to stand but groans out at the beginning pull of pain. “don’t fucking marry me. i don’t care. maybe junmyeon will want to marry me instead.” 

“maybe he will.” minseok laughs. “seeing as he’s farther up your ass than i ever will be.” 

jongin’s mouth opens, eyes widening for a split second before they squint, shock spreading across his face. “fuck you.” 

minseok scoffs, jumping off the sink to walk back into their bedroom. he grabs some clothes and a towel and leaves to shower in a spare bathroom. jongin’s still running his mouth, still talking shit up and down while minseok showers. he’s fuming even after, after he thinks he’s given him enough time to cool off. 

he even goes as far as telling minseok that he doesn’t love him. minseok laughs at him, knowing that soon jongin will crash and get tired of running his fucking mouth. “why don’t you ask me to marry you when the fucking sun is out? or when we’re just laying in bed talking? it’s either after a fight or when you’re drunk.”

“doesn’t it count that i’m fucking saying it, though? doesn’t it? what more do you fucking want from me, then?” 

“i want you to say what you want without an entire fight behind you or sixteen beers in your system, you fucking asshole.” minseok snaps, turning to see jongin still wrapped in a towel. he can’t put clothes on— minseok knows he can’t because it’s too much of a strain on his muscles. “sometimes i think you’re buying time before—”

“shut up.” jongin hisses, voice vibrating through the whole room. minseok regrets it when he sees jongin’s face— how that had struck a deep chord in him. “if i was buying time, i would have dumped you the minute i got all this money under my fucking belt. did i, though? no. because i don’t want anyone else, but you’re such a fucking hardass that you swear no one fucking wants you. that no one actually wants to be with you. you think i’d want any of this luster shit if it wasn’t with you? fuck that. and fuck you for saying that and even thinking that’s what this situation is based on.” 

minseok curls his lips into his mouth, face suddenly going aflame from a mixture of shame and anger. the silence hangs heavy in the room, even as minseok steps forward and helps jongin dress, even when minseok dries his hair and puts bandages on the cuts on his hands. jongin grabs minseok by his arm, pulling him between his legs so he can look up at him, “if it meant giving up all this shit just to have you, i would. i don’t care about any of it.”

“okay.” minseok swallows, nodding. “sorry for—”

“it’s alright.” jongin tugs on him until they both fall back on the bed, minseok laying on top of him. “you’re right about the marriage thing, though. i’m sorry for that.”

“we’ll figure it out.” minseok turns his head and lays his cheek against jongin’s chest. there’s no clicking sound this time. his body suffered a lot because of the fights, adding the vigorous training didn’t help much. minseok closes his eyes, thinks he can fall asleep here without much thought. 

jongin is a good man. he always has been. they met at jongin’s old workplace. a mechanic with very little money but a lot of determination. minseok’s father’s car constantly had problems and jongin’s shop was the closest to their house. somehow, minseok can’t remember how they ended up together in the end, or how quickly jongin’s boxing career picked up after just a few months. it all just happened and now they were here, fighting more than they had before but somehow still inseparable. 

“i’d never fuck junmyeon.” jongin says unexpectedly. minseok scoffs. “he’s too wound up, you know. i’ve been trying to set him up with chanyeol for months.” 

“chanyeol as in the guy you spit on when you knocked him out chanyeol?” minseok lifts his head. jongin hums, his hands coming to rest on minseok’s back. “you’re friends with him?”

“of course. he’s pretty cool, you know.” jongin says. “anyway, junmyeon keeps saying he’s busy, but what do you think he’s doing right now? sleeping probably. he could be getting wined and dined by the second best boxer in the game, but.” 

minseok hums, having lost all energy to talk for tonight. he thinks maybe he should say it’s time to sleep. moving from where he is isn’t an option, though. he wants to be close tonight— wants to sleep pressed to jongin’s chest or back just to know he has him, that jongin isn’t going anywhere. every time he blinks, he sees blood, glimpses of jongin in the ring with blood gushing from his mouth and face as he laughs at his opponent. 

people loved him because of that— his ability to take a real ass beating and in the end to win and laugh about it with blood in his mouth. people enjoyed that shit, they ate it up practically. the images and recordings of the fight must be everywhere by now, jongin running to the side of the ring and climbing ropes to lift his hands in victory. all while bleeding an entire fucking river. 

it’d been so bad once that minseok wasn’t able to see him till the doctors assured he would live. all the beatings added up. minseok tries not to think about all the times ahead, all the fights — between jongin and his opponents and jongin and himself — ahead of them. the nights where minseok goes to sleep alone because jongin’s training till the morning hours. mornings he spends alone, eating alone because jongin has to dip out for an early mile run. interviews and press conferences, weight meets and trash talking meet ups to build suspense for an upcoming fight. 

“what’re you thinking about?” jongin asks, hands running over his back. minseok mumbles nothing. “you got quiet out of nowhere. you’re thinking about something.” 

minseok scoots up a little and kisses his chin, kisses the bruises blooming there, the aches that his jaw is enduring. “oh.” jongin sounds smug. “now?”

“i can't kiss you?” minseok frowns down at him. “you’re like a teenager.” 

“you can.” he replies, “just don’t be surprised how we end up.”

jongin doesn’t do much but lie there as minseok peppers his face with tiny kisses. his hands wander down at some point, tugging minseok’s sleep shorts over his ass. flesh on flesh, finally, after so long of having to stop before anything can happen. the fight is important, junmyeon had said, sex always messes fighters up so don’t even fucking think about it. 

they didn’t, not till now at least. 

minseok groans when jongin grinds up against him. it’s uncomfortable with all the clothes, the tension in his muscles from the fight. “come on.” jongin urges, bites minseok’s ear. minseok hisses as he slaps his arm, reminds him how much he hates ear shit. “it’s sexy. you’re just too sensitive.” 

“fine.” minseok wiggles from under jongin’s hands and pulled his shorts back up. “if we’re gonna do this, we do it my way.” 

“when do we ever do it my way?” jongin counters, going to fold his arms behind his head. he looks smug, like a real dick and minseok almost rethinks touching him at all. 

“remember when we first met?” minseok asks, wanting to get jongin to talk. once you get him started, you can’t shut him up. jongin hums, looking down at minseok’s hands fiddling with his shirt. “you’re the same from back then.”

“so are you.” jongin says. “i don’t know how i got someone like you. the guys at the shop used to tease me about you all the time.”

“yeah?” minseok thinks they’ve talked about this before— maybe once when they were drunk or too tired that he can’t remember. minseok scoots back a bit and situates himself right over jongin’s crotch. “what would they say?”

“move a bit and i’ll tell you.” 

minseok grinds back a few times, earning a few hums from jongin before he stops. “they called you my little boyfriend. some of them even said i didn’t have a chance.” minseok scoffs, “i’m serious. i was a mechanic living in a rented bedroom. they didn’t think you’d want someone like me.” 

“you still talk to them?”

“a bit.” jongin looks like he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore and reaches forward with his hands to guide minseok’s hips. “you want me, don’t you?”

“why wouldn’t i?”

“you still have clothes on, for one.” 

this isn’t some weird ritual after a fight. most times, they don’t even have sex until jongin’s fully recovered from fighting. minseok’s always been afraid of hurting him or causing more bruises than he already has. he’d done so once, accidentally getting too rough and scratching down jongin’s chest only for him to wince in pain and pull away. 

he thinks of the wedding as he undressed, as jongin throws some crude comment at him about how he’s gonna have a limp tomorrow. he thinks of what he’d wear, what the centerpieces would be as jongin takes his shirt and pants off. he thinks of the glasses of champagne they’d drink, of the cake, of their “first dance”, of the amount of media coverage their wedding would get. he thinks of wearing rings with jongin as minseok tries to open himself up with two fingers. he thinks of their honeymoon, where they’d go, how much time they’d spend there. jongin must notice how hard he’s thinking because he’s reaching for his hip, grounding him, “you get so lost in that head of yours.”

“i was thinking,” minseok flinches when he feels jongin’s free hand trail back and guide his fingers in him. “about the wedding.” 

jongin hums, touches minseok’s stomach and chest with one hand while the other is fingering him with no problem. he’s always been attentive, sweet in times like these. minseok was a bit intimidated by him at first, had always thought jongin would be a rough lover, the type to want to manhandle and boss him around. 

minseok’s glad jongin is the way he is. even when he can’t seem to know where he wants to keep his attention. minseok pushes both of his hands away, rumbling about how he was fine, now. jongin lays back, dazed as minseok slicks up his cock and maneuvers to sink down. 

“you’re not gonna kiss me?” jongin says, his breath hitching on its way out. minseok scoffs, a wicked smile across his face when jongin reaches for him. minseok does end up kissing him, but pulling back before they can get too carried away. “you’re lucky i fought today.” minseok ignores him as he sinks down, his chest suddenly feeling tight from the intrusion. “or else i’d let you fuck me.”

“god, shut the fuck up.” minseok hisses out, his hand blindly reaching to press against his mouth. “shut up.” 

jongin groans beneath him, his hips pressing up into him in an effort to get some sort of control, “min—”

“my way. you said you didn’t love me earlier— ah, remember?” minseok’s eyes shut, his thighs burning from fucking himself down on jongin’s cock. it feels different tonight, almost like there’s something boiling beneath the surface. “so just… lay there and look pretty.” 

“hey. fuck you.” jongin says, but there’s no bite behind it. minseok goes as far as shoving two fingers in his mouth just to shut him up. 

“fuck, you look good like that.” minseok moans out, his free hand reaching toward jongin’s chest for better leverage. jongin gags around his fingers, spit collecting at the corners of his mouth and running down his jaw. “suck harder.” 

jongin gets a heady glare in his eye, but he does as he’s told, taking minseok’s finger so far down his throat it makes him gag hard enough to be concerning. minseok would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy this power trip. they’ve done this hundreds of times, but minseok can see the wheels of jongin’s brain turning. “whatever you’re thinking of doing,” minseok breathes, his words jumping in his throat, “don’t. you’re… sore. and your muscles are tender.” 

jongin pulls minseok’s fingers from his mouth and kisses along his palm, his wrist that jongin used to tease for being so damn dainty. “you really wanna marry me?” minseok asks him, his arousal burning deep in his belly. he stops riding him and takes a second to breathe, jongin’s hips twitching under him. “huh? you wanna marry me?”

“yeah.” jongin nods, sweat clinging to his hairline. he’s flushed down to his chest. “yeah. i wanna marry you. please fuck me. hurry.” 

“i’m not fucking you.” minseok moans when jongin thrusts his hips up with force he didn’t know he was capable of having. minseok feels his knees slide against their sheets and suddenly he’s being pulled up the expanse of the bed. jongin’s situated himself against their pillows, now directly face to face with minseok. minseok laughs at him, breathless despite jongin’s efforts to shut him up, pulling him by his hips up and down on his cock. 

“you’re so hot.” jongin whispers between their mouths. minseok hums, grinding down on him a little more desperately. “god, i could fuck you forever.” 

“shut up.” minseok presses his hand against jongin’s mouth once more. “come on then, big shot. show me. give it to me.” 

it’s a dumb and risky thing to say because jongin really isn’t in any shape to take the reigns, but he does so anyway, getting up on his knees and bouncing minseok in his lap. “tell me you love me.” jongin grunts. the sound of their skin slapping together makes jongin want to burst at the seams. “tell me.”

minseok’s fucked stupid because he just blinks at him, mouth agape and whining as he holds on to jongin’s forearms. “i love you.” minseok gasps out, reaching down to touch himself. “you first, yeah? you first, baby.”

“inside? can i? please?” 

minseok nods, reaching forward and wrapping his arms around jongin’s shoulders. he tries not to scratch him or claw at him and instead bites his own arm and jongin’s pace reaches a brutal level and he cums for what feels like five minutes. 

the cleanup will be a bitch. minseok sighs and slumps against jongin’s chest. “you’re so cute.” minseok tucks his face against jongin’s neck, he mimics him from just a few minutes ago,  _ “inside? can i? _ i could eat you up.” 

minseok hums when he feels jongin’s hand skate between them and touch him, just barely. “you’re so handsome. so handsome. even with,” minseok pauses to labor through a few breaths, “all the cuts and bruises.”

“minseok, baby, shut up.” jongin laughs softly, “kiss me, you’ll cum quicker.” 

it’s embarrassing, but he does. the fog of an orgasm settles over them and minseok can feel jongin’s body beginning to go slack, his breathing evening out. “shower. come on.” minseok gets out of his lap carefully and hisses when his thighs burn. “you did give me a limp.”

“can i fuck you in the shower?” 

“absolutely not.” minseok hisses, helping him off the bed. “once is enough until your body recovers. and your cum is running down my thighs which is fucking gross.”

“you let me!” 

“it was  _ hot _ in the moment.” minseok grumbles and turns on the shower. “you never told me you loved me back.” he brushes the hair away from jongin’s forehead. 

jongin steps forward and grabs a handful of his ass, “let me fuck again and i will.”

“you’re a disease.” minseok wiggles form his grip, but it does feel nice— to be desired after being together for so long. in the bath, they’re quiet after they’ve rid themselves of all bodily fluids. minseok sits opposite to jongin, bubbles up to his chest. “we should tell junmyeon to date chanyeol. play matchmaker.” 

“i’ll tell him tomorrow.” jongin leans his head back and closes his eyes. minseok sees the faint blues and purples on his skin now, no longer red blemishes from earlier. “stop staring at my bruises.” 

“m’not.” minseok mumbles. “i was thinking about something.” 

“the wedding?”

“yeah, the wedding.” 

jongin opens his eyes and looks at him, “pick the date, baby. i’ll be there.” 

“this is a relationship. we’re doing all the planning together.” minseok says, “listen, once we’re married, i think we need to cut down on the sex. couples stop having sex when they get married, you know. it’s psychology.” 

“i can’t tell if you’re joking.” 

“i’m not. seriously. it’s important.” minseok holds out his hand. he’s not serious, he hopes jongin can see that. by the smug grin on his face, he does, “after we’re legally eloped, we’ll only have sex once a month, on a monday, at nine pm with the lights on.” 

“deal.” jongin shakes his hand. “we’re not eloped or whatever yet so.” minseok laughs as jongin surges forward through the water and kisses him. the water from the tub sloshes out onto the floor, but they’re too busy to care. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> xiukai nation😌 hello
> 
> uni beat my ass but i’m back for now
> 
> p.s. last chapter of that xiuyeol soulmates thing is almost done. promise


End file.
